


Rose of Iran

by amoregiallo



Category: Eroica Yori Ai o Komete | From Eroica with Love
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Alternate Universe - 1980s, Angst and Humor, British English, Character Development, Class Differences, Dom/sub Undertones, Implied/Referenced Cheating, Margaret Thatcher - Freeform, Mild Smut, Minor Character Death, Multi, Past Character Death, Temporary Character Death, mafia, subculture
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-17
Updated: 2018-06-17
Packaged: 2019-05-24 12:39:19
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 440
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14954859
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/amoregiallo/pseuds/amoregiallo





	Rose of Iran

Wednesday, 17th June 1984

_ To me, the greatest possible feeling a human can experience is love.  _

 

To have a distant admirer send me cards and roses. For them to bathe me in declarations of devotion and send me Romantic poetry. Staying up at night thinking about them, and wondering whether they’re thinking about me. That indescribable feeling in the pit of my stomach with just the thought of my lover. The feeling of for once being… free. Free from such turmoil life has brought upon my soul. 

 

Oh, how life used to be so much more simple. Picking cherries in the garden and kissing boys behind the palace. My palace used to be a paradise (emphasis on  _ my _ palace, because I used to run it). 

My life changed completely once  _ He _ took over. His unsightly hands puppeteering my body, making me love strangers unwillingly. But my luck changed that one fateful night, five summers ago.

Never have I loved a man as much as I did that summer, when the man with golden hair came to steal the castle jewells. What an angel fate had brought upon me; the man swept me up in his grace and stole me away from this cruel world for a warm summer night. For once I felt warm in a man’s touch. 

I couldn’t help wanting more of it; but I, being a young boy, had to wait until I was of age.  His preference was that of a european man - he didn’t care for boys. But he did love me. And he still does. 

On the day of my 20th Birthday he told me he was to send his men to fly me to London, where he will be waiting for me to ask me my hand in marriage. Oh, how I knew he had never forgotten about me. Since the moment I saw him I knew we would meet again. 

 

What are the chances; today is my 20th Birthday and I am writing this in the new diary I got as a gift. I will be using this diary to document the curiosities I will find in England. For now, I am using it to pass the time while I wait for Dorian’s men to pick me up. 

I am ecstatic with the thought of leaving this place for the love of my life. Finally, I will be able to reinvent my life, with a beautiful husband in a fascinating country. And then, I can grow a garden of orchids and sit under a Pergola verandah, watching the sun go down over the English countryside.

 

I must leave they’re waiting for me


End file.
